


Bespoke

by tessykins



Category: Reaper (TV)
Genre: Barebacking, M/M, Suit Porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-10-18
Updated: 2008-10-18
Packaged: 2017-10-19 13:40:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/201472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tessykins/pseuds/tessykins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Devil is always wearing a suit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bespoke

The Devil always keeps his suits on. It doesn’t matter how private their little rendezvous’ are, there’s always that damned suit. So it’s only natural that Sam starts to associate those suits with imminent sexing. At least, that’s what Sam keeps telling himself.

The Devil laughs when he finds out. “You got a kink for suits, Sammy?” he asks, eyes twinkling.

“Um, it’s kinda just you—just your suits,” Sam stammers. Though, really, at this point, it’s pretty much any well-tailored suit he sees.

The Devil grins, sharp, showing his teeth. He steps forward, invading his personal space with a vengeance.

Sam fights the urge to step back. No matter how long he’s known him, how many times they’ve done this, he still can’t help but remember that he’s sleeping with Satan. And, of course, the Devil enjoys this.

The Devil slips his hand under Sam’s t-shirt, fingernails scraping lightly at his skin. Sam shivers, swaying towards his boss. The Devil laughs, low and amused, pulling Sam against his body Sam braces himself against him, hands clutching at silk sleeves.

The Devil sucks a line of kisses down Sam’s neck; Sam moans and lets his head fall back. “So you like my suit, huh, kid? D’you want one of your own?”

Sam gasps; a feeling like hot and wind, and a jacket hangs from his shoulders. Sam squeaks and yanks away from the Devil, trying to cover his otherwise naked body.

The Devil cackles. “Whoops. Forgot about the rest of the suit.” He grabs the lapels of Sam’s jacket and pulls him in. “C’mon, you know you like it.”

Sam blushes and drops his eyes.

The Devil grabs his chin and kisses him, hard.

Sam groans and lets himself fall into the kiss. The Devil slides the jacket off his shoulders, and pushes him down on to the bed, hot weight settling on his body. Sam’s hands find the Devil’s belt, sliding over his crotch. The Devil snarls, teeth nipping at Sam’s lips. Sam tries not to whimper like a girl and pulls open the Devil’s trousers. His hands on hot slick skin; the Devil always goes commando.

The Devil’s fingers are slick, pressing into him slow and brain-numbingly good.

“How do you always do that,” Sam grits out from between clenched teeth. The Devil cocks his head questioningly. “You always have lube.”

“I am the Devil,” he laughs.

Sam squeaks in outrage, tries to squirm away. “You’re using _magical demon lube_ on me?”

The Devil chuckles. “No. I just own the soul of the man who invented pockets.”

Sam is still laughing when the Devil removes his fingers and thrusts into him.

Sam’s laugh turns into a deep moan. He closes his eyes to savor the sensations. The Devil deep inside, the infernal heat surrounding him; smooth trouser legs against his own, the zipper pressed against his inner thigh, the tip of the Devil’s tie just tickling his chest. Damn, Sam thinks; this whole suit obsession is getting to be a little much.

Then the Devil thrusts, belt buckle slapping Sam’s thigh, and there isn’t room for thinking.

Just the hot press of bodies, the slick slide of his dick against his belly, and the Devil’s lips pressed against his shoulder. Sam cries out, hands clutching at the Devil’s back, fingernails digging in. His legs are around the Devil’s waist, ankles slipping on his suit.

He’s naked, on his back, getting fucked by the Devil, who’s still fully dressed.

And if he keeps thinking about like that, he’s not going to last long at all.

The Devil thrusts, hard, swiveling his hips. Sam moans, throwing his head back, and realizes he isn’t going to last long anyway. The Devil has always known exactly how to touch him.

The Devil’s hand insinuates itself between their bodies, wrapping around Sam’s cock. Sam’s hips stutter and arch, “Fuck!” The Devil laughs and sinks his teeth into Sam’s shoulder. Sam moans, pleasure and pain spiraling together. He meets the Devil’s gaze, eyes too dark, and then looks away.

A twist of the Devil’s wrist and Sam arches up, biting his lip and coming like a geyser.

The Devil grins, but it quickly falls away into heavy lids and panting mouth. Sam floats, blessed out, as the Devil thrusts into him once, twice more. The Devil comes with a snarl and a flare of heat.

The Devil rolls off of him and they lay together, side by side in the afterglow.

Then the Devil laughs. “Did that satisfy your suit fetish, Sam?”

Sam groans and throws his arm up over his eyes, blushing to the roots of his hair.


End file.
